A/N: I based this story on a character called Abel Angel that was created by the-vampire-inside-me on Tumblr. There are two comics this story is based on. Can provide links if asked. Hard to put them here.
Disclaimer: Bendy and the Ink Machine is owned by TheMeatly. Abel belongs to the-vampire-inside-me and I only own my Ocs.
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Sins of the Past
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If you were to ask Abel what kind of life he wanted to lead, he'd probably laugh and say a simple one. That's not exactly what he got when he escaped his studio. Sure, all he wanted was to survive the mean streets of Toon Town. He'd take a few jobs that wasn't exactly honest, smoked like a chimney, spend the night drinking bad memories away, and stumble back home. Inspite of all of this, it was his life and he had gotten used to it.
This all changed when a certain person from his past managed to track him down.
Abel found himself wandering the shopping district between Toon Town and the next town over. It was a beautiful sunny day and he was content to let his feet carry him where ever they wanted to go. It was one of the few peaceful moments in his life.
He'd never let his guard down, but this was one of the few places he knew no one would try anything. As a rule, most toons tried to stay out of sight of humans if they were going to do something wrong like rob you or straight up whack ya. If the humans found out that the toons were more dangerous than they thought, they wouldn't hesitate to burn their town down to the ground with them in it. So the border between towns were a kind of 'safe zone' of sorts.
Most humans didn't know him here and he was fine with that. He purposely covered his wings with his jacket so he wouldn't attract unwanted attention. He kept his head down and minded his own business. So imagine his surprise when he heard a familiar voice call his name. A voice he swore he never wanted to hear again. He looked up slowly and stared in shock at his creator, Joshua Eubanks.
The old man was sitting on a park bench and was leaning heavily on a cane. He gave the toon angel a warm smile and looked genuinely happy to see him. "It is good to see you again, my boy."
It took a few seconds for his mind to catch up before Abel scowled at the man. "How in the hell did you find me?!" Any good mood he was in was soured by the man's presence.
Joshua chuckled, his warm smile never slipping. "Your brother was nice enough to tell me where you were."
"Cain? That son of a bitch!" Joshua watched as the toon angel spat the name out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Abel's eyes narrowed and he looked at him with suspicion. "If you're here to take me back to that hell hole, you've got another thing coming. I ain't goin' back!" Abel was practically baring his teeth at the old man.
Joshua held up his hand in a placating manner. A look of guilt flittered across his features before he schooled his face back into a calm mask. "No no, I'm not here to take you back. In fact, I no longer work there." Abel stared at him with a great deal of skepticism. Joshua continued. "After Cain escaped the studio, they blamed me for everything. They had me removed from the studio I created so many years ago. In the end, I was more than happy to leave."
Abel looked around. The old man seemed to be alone. There were no goons with him to try to take him back. Even if there were, he'd put up one hell of a fight! His thoughts were interrupted by Joshua's voice.
"You look good, my boy. I'm glad you're taking care of yourself." Joshua didn't let it show, but it hurt the way the angel kept his distance from him. He still didn't trust him and the man couldn't blame him. He had hoped that the two years he was on his own might have lessened his anger towards him. It looks like he was wrong.
"What do ya want from me? Why are ya even here?" Joshua winced at Abel's harsh words but pushed on.
"I just wanted to know if you were alright. I never stopped thinking of you ever since you ran away." Joshua felt like such a failure. He could have done more to stop the abuse, but he didn't. He knew he didn't deserve the toon's forgiveness, but he had to try. "I just want to talk…"
Abel was shaking his head. He looked at the old man in disbelief. "Are you serious?!" he shouted. "I don't wanna talk to you! I don't wanna have anything ta do with ya!" The toon angel was seething. His fingers began to twitch as though he wanted to reach for the gun he kept concealed in his hammerspace. He took a few deep breaths before turning on his heels and walking away. He had to get away before he did something stupid.
"Abel wait!" The old man called out to him and the toon angel stopped in his tracks. The toon growled softly. "What?" He refused to turn around.
"I'll be here, my boy. When you're ready, I'll be here. I'll answer any questions you may have for me. I promise…"
Abel huffed and continued walking. It'll be a cold day in hell before he saw his creator again.
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-OoOoOoOoO-
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Hell must have had a mild snow storm because Abel found himself wandering to the same spot where he ran into Joshua. He didn't plan this, he swears. His traitorous feet kinda took him there. He hadn't realized where he was until he saw the old man sitting on the same park bench. Joshua spotted him before he could walk away. The old man's eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face. Abel winced internally. He couldn't just walk away, no matter how much he wanted to.
The toon angel walked up to the man. He still kept his distance and crossed his arms over his chest. He gave Joshua a curt greeting and watched as his calm mask slip. A look of hurt flashed in his eyes before the mask was put back up. It's not like he cared what the old man felt. Yet, there was a slight twinge in his heart at that look in his creator's eyes.
Things got a little heated after that. Abel started to get a few things off his chest. Things that he had been holding in ever since he left the studio. By the end of it he was shouting at Joshua. He ended up on the ground, crying in his creator's arms like a child. The toon didn't realize how much he needed to be held by the man he hated for years.
After his little breakdown, he had no plans to see the old man again. Of course, things never worked out the way he wanted them to. A week later, he felt compelled to return to the park. Just to see if Joshua was there. If he wasn't, then he knew the old man lied and he would have nothing to do with him.
Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how he chose to look at it, the old animator was there. Abel just shook his head. The old man kept his word. He guessed he could give Joshua the benefit of a doubt.
This was the start of a ritual that neither realized they started. Abel would show up at the park every few days or so to find Joshua sitting there. Joshua noticed that Abel would wander near the park around the same time nearly every few days or so. He made sure he was sitting on that particular park bench when Abel showed up.
The old animator would ask how he was doing or what the was doing with his life. The toon angel would give him short answers and after a few minutes, he would leave. Abel would never admit it out loud, but it became oddly comforting knowing that his creator would be there if he ever had the urge to talk to him. It was something he did to sate his curiosity. He still didn't fully trust the old animator, but it didn't hurt to see him once and awhile.
Of course Abel avoided talking about the less savory parts of his life. It's not like he was afraid of disappointing the old man or anything. He didn't care what he thought! It's just that, it was none of his business. Yeah, that's it.
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-OoOoOoOoO-
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Ever since Joshua told the toon angel that he had left their studio, Abel had the urge to go back there. The old man told him that the studio had been in financial trouble for years and would probably be closing its doors soon. He wanted to see if it was as bad as Joshua said, but he didn't want to go alone. That's when he got the idea to drag Bendy along. The demonic toon wouldn't tag along for free. Oh no. As soon as Abel mentioned crates of good ink for the taking, the mob boss practically jumped at the chance to make some money.
It should have been a simple job: the break in after hours, Bendy gets his ink, maybe Abel sees just how much of a dump his old home had become, and pour a little more salt in the wound as sweet revenge. Abel should have known better. As soon as he went nosing around and found old concept art of himself among a stack of papers, all hell broke loose.
Staring at the picture of what he almost became triggered something deep inside himself. His memory got a little spotty after that. He felt like his body was on fire! He could feel an increased weight on his back as his wings seemed to split and multiply. It was excruciating! What really scared him was the way his vision blurred for a few seconds. He thought he was going blind until it finally cleared. But something was wrong, very very wrong. He could see everything as eyes began to sprout all over his body! He could see things around him with such clarity that it made his head spin. He tried to close his eyes, but it didn't work! It was like he had no control over the eyes covering his arms and wings.
Abel could feel his mind fragmenting as visions of another being dying a slow, painful death played through his mind. The feeling of his body burning up from the inside out was so intense, he begged Bendy for help. He was surprised when the toon demon rushed towards him, knocked him out while he seemed to smother the flames by wrapping him up in his own jacket. It worked!
The angel was left gasping for air as he tried to pull himself together. He could feel his ink running down the side of his face. Even his halo dripped luminescent ink on the floor. It took a few minutes and downing a few bottles of ink with the demonic mob boss before he felt strong enough to move. He kept his end of the bargain and helped Bendy carry out a few crates of the precious ink to the demon's car. Before leaving the studio for good, Abel made sure he pocketed the concept art he found earlier.
After that little scare, things seemed to return to normal. He still felt a little weird every time he looked at his concept art. It was like something was scratching at the back of his consciousness. Whenever he saw Joshua, he wanted to ask about the drawing but changed his mind at the last minute. He really didn't want the old man snooping around in his life. So, he didn't say a word even though the old man could tell something was wrong.
A few days later is when the dreams started. At first it was just flashes of light, images, and pain. As time went on, those dreams turned into nightmares.
He was surrounded by people. They were all shouting at him. He couldn't understand what they were saying. It was all too muffled and loud at the same time. They were pointing at him, yelling at each other, and moving around him frantically. He swore he could hear screaming. Long, drawn out wails that sent the men running out of the room. He didn't know where the agonizing screams were coming from until he realized, he was the one doing it.
In some of the dreams he could see his hands, blackened, slowly melting in front of his eyes, and almost claw like! Not only was the ink melting but it also bubbled and boiled with a rising internal heat that was trying to burn him alive. Abel would wake up with a start at nearly the same point in the nightmare. Someone was approaching him. The figured was blurred, but as they got closer, he could almost see their face. Then he'd wake up.
Nightmares were nothing new to the toon angel. He had plenty of them after he escaped the studio. It took a few months and the realization that he was safe, that no one was going to drag him back to that hellhole, that the bad dreams seemed to lessen. They didn't stop completely, but it wasn't as bad as it used to be.
The nightmares he was experiencing now felt different. Sometimes it didn't feel like a dream. It felt like he was looking through someone else's memories. The pain even felt real. He swore he could feel incredible heat coursing through his body and terrible screams ringing in his ears. He'd wake up totally exhausted and frankly in a foul mood for the rest of the day.
Abel knew things were getting bad when even Bendy said something.
"Oi angel face! You look terrible." Abel just wanted a quiet drink at the local bar. He wasn't in the mood for the snarky demon now. Bendy didn't seem to notice or care and sat down at a stool next to the angel. He ordered a drink and proceeded to comment on how the cherub looked like a dog chewed him up and spit him out.
"Bendy, just…go away." Abel tried to ignore the demonic mob boss but Bendy wouldn't make it easy.
"What's up with you?" Bendy leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Is this about what happened at the studio?"
"No!" Abel growled. "…maybe. I don't know!" He ran his gloved hand down his face before taking a few sips of his scotch. As much as he wanted to get drunk, it made the nightmares even worse.
Bendy just shook his head. He wasn't even put off by the angel's sudden outburst. He downed half his drink and set his glass on the bar. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but maybe you need to talk to someone." The toon demon scratched the back of his head as he thought. "Didn't you say your creator's been hanging around? Couldn't hurt to talk to him."
Abel frowned. The last person he wanted to know was Joshua. "You're right, it's none of your business." He drained the rest of his drink, paid his tab, and stormed out of the bar.
Bendy sighed. He stared down into his half empty glass with a sad smile on his face. "At least you can still talk to your creator."
Abel was angry. He knew Bendy was right. All of this started when he went back to the studio and he came across that concept art. The concept art that was created by Joshua. Maybe the old man knew something but the toon angel wasn't ready to go to him for help. He could handle this on his own. At least he thought he could until later on that evening…
The dream started out like it usually did. People ran around him, screaming things he couldn't understand. Unbearable pain that wracked his body. The very ink that made up his body boiled and flames seemed to dance around him. A figure slowly approached him and he could almost make out their features. This time he was able to see the person's face before he woke up screaming. It was Joshua!
Abel sat up in his bed shaking like a leaf. Ink dripped down his face like sweat and inky tears rolled down his cheeks. He covered his mouth with his hand to muffle the sobs that threatened to escape his throat.
Joshua was there. Even if it was a nightmare or a memory, it didn't change the fact that his creator was there. He needed answers and Joshua was the only one that could give it to him. He had to do something when he noticed that not only ink splattered on his sheets, but there were small scorch marks on the sheets around his arms and legs.
-OoOoOoOoO-
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The last time Joshua saw the toon angel, he looked exhausted. When he tried to find out what was wrong, Abel snapped at him and took off. He hadn't seen his creation in nearly a week. He sat at the park bench everyday and waited. He prayed that the toon wasn't hurt or worse.
Joshua's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps heading in his direction. He looked up to see Abel walking towards him with his hands in his pocket and a serious look on his face. He stopped a few feet away from the old man and glared at him.
"Abel?" The toon narrowed his pie cut eyes at him and came a little closer.
"Remember when you told me I could ask you anything and you would tell me the truth?" Joshua looked a little confused but he agreed. He watched as Abel reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it out to the old animator.
Joshua had a sinking feeling as he unfolded the paper. Whatever this was must be very important to the toon. When he got a good look at what was on the page, he nearly dropped it in surprised. His hands began to shake and he looked at the angel with wide eyes. "W-Where did you get this?!"
Abel frowned at Joshua's reaction. "It doesn't matter where I got it from." He pointed to the drawing. "Tell me about this." Abel could feel himself getting angry Joshua shook his head.
"Abel, this-this is nothing. It's just some early concept art. It's not important." The way Joshua refused to look him in the eye, the angel knew he was lying.
"Joshua." The toon said in a stern tone. It made the old man flinch. "You promised to give me answers, or were you lying to me?"
Joshua opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, at a loss for what to say. He looked down at the drawing and his shoulders sagged. There was a look of utter misery written all over his face. He looked up at the toon angel and sighed.
"This, was the biggest triumph and the biggest failure of my life. It's not a story that's easy for me to tell." Abel sat down on the bench and faced him. He had a look of grim determination on his face.
"Please, I really need to know."
Joshua sighed and placed the drawing on his lap. Abel deserved to know. He cleared his throat and began to speak. "This all started six years ago-"
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-Six Years Earlier-
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"Gentlemen, are you sure this is what you want?" Joshua sat in his office as he looked over a list of features for a new toon he was commissioned to create. Two men sat across from him. Both wore immaculate white suits with gold crosses on their lapels and cuffs. One of the men held a large bible and called himself the Preacher.
"Yes Mr. Eubanks, this is exactly what we want. He will be the perfect gift to present to the Pope." The Preacher looked him in the eyes. It sent a chill down the old animator's spine. "Why? Is there a problem?"
"Well-" Joshua scratched his cheek lightly as he looked over the list again. "It just seems rather complicated." He looked up and noticed the Preacher and his associate staring back at him with confusion on their faces. Joshua sighed. Of course they don't know.
"The simpler the toon's design, the better the results. The Machine is not meant to emulate real life. If the toon has too much detail, the results could be disastrous."
The Preacher frowned at this. "Listen, our organization has poured a lot of money into your studio. Surely you can honor this simple request."
Joshua knew what they were asking was anything but simple. When Joshua sunk nearly all his life savings into buying a Machine from Murray Hill, the man had warned him that the toons' designs needed to be kept simple. If not, terrible things might happen. Joshua took that warning to heart. The Machine turned out to be a good investment. Not only did his animation studio create cartoons for the big screen but they also brought toons to life for smaller independent studios. He didn't even mind animating the Cain and Abel shorts for this religious organization even though he found the messages in those cartoons dubious at times.
Joshua poured a little of himself into every toon he managed to bring to life. At the end of the day, he had to give them to their rightful owners but he took great pride in every single one of them. What the Preacher was asking of him made him feel uneasy. Still, they were paying a lot for this. Maybe he could find a way to make it work.
"Gentlemen, come back in two days. I should have a working sketch ready for your perusal." They thanked him and promised to come back in two days.
The next day, Joshua could be found hunched over his drawing board. His waste basket was piled high with crumbled up papers. Discarded sketches that he wasn't satisfied with. After a few hours, Joshua had to take a break. He realized he was trying too hard and he'd never get it done this way. So, he walked around the studio, checked on the other animators' work and got some much needed fresh air.
An hour later, he was refreshed, and ready to get back to work. By the end of the day, he finally had a sketch he was happy with. It was a drawing of a cartoon angel. He had a round, friendly face. A spiked halo floats behind his head. Snow white hair was slicked back on top of his head. He wore a white, sleeveless suit, white gloves, and black and white spats. The suit had a large cross in the center. What made this angel unusual was the fact that he had three pairs of wings on his back. Then there were the eyes. The toon had four sets of black eyes with white crosses where the pupils should be that adorned his smiling face. Eyes seemed to be a particular theme with this angel. There were eyes that ran down his arms, in the palms of his hands, and all over his wings. Joshua mused at what it must be like to see through all those eyes.
This angel was called a Seraphim. Supposedly one of the highest ranking angels in God's house. What better way to get in good with the Vatican then to present the Pope with an angel like this. Joshua shook his head to get rid of the bitter thought. It's not like he had any say in what happened to a toon once they left the studio.
A day later, the Preacher and a man called Mr. Smith, came back to check on his work. Even though the clients seemed satisfied with his sketch, he still felt uneasy with it. So after they left, Joshua made a call to the one man he knew could help.
"Hello?"
"Hello Mr. Hill. It's Joshua."
"Heh, always so formal. It's just Murray. What can I do for ya?"
Joshua explained the situation and Murray was more than happy to take a look at his sketch. After work, the old animator drove out to an industrial looking building on the edge of town. To anyone else, it looked like any other factory in that part of town. But most in the animation business knew better. It's the place where a miracle of modern technology was built and purchased for a hefty price. The Machine.
Murray Hill was the inventor of that wondrous device. A machine that used special ink and imagination to bring toons to life! Such a discovery changed the world of animation. It was surprising that such a man took the time to answer questions and give advice.
Murray greeted Joshua warmly as they made their way to his office. He took one look at the animator's sketch and told him what he already knew-
"This is too complicated!" The man proceeded to write little notes on the page. Too many wings and eyes. Joshua argued that the client wanted a Seraphim and it definitely needed three pairs of wings. Hill sighed and told him to make the wings smaller and get rid of some of the eyes. Maybe that might work.
"I have to be honest Joshua, I'm not sure about this." He handed the sketch back to Joshua and wished him luck. Joshua thanked him and headed home to rework the sketch. He just hoped the clients wouldn't notice the changes.
The old animator was able to relax. No one noticed the changes he made to the original sketch. Still he would feel a lot better when the new toon emerged from the Machine healthy and in one piece.
-OoOoOoOoO-
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Today was the big day. The Pope would be coming to the States in four days and the organization wanted the Seraphim to be ready. The Preacher and his associates would be there to witness the emergence of the new toon.
Joshua instructed his crew to start up the Machine. It roared to life with clinks and clatters as it churned the special ink inside. He always got a little excited whenever he brought a new toon to life. His excitement was tinged with nervousness. He prayed to whatever higher power would listen that everything would work out.
Joshua places the sketch under the nozzle of the Machine. He walked to the side and pulled the lever. Ink began to flow from the nozzle and onto the paper, completely submerging it within a few seconds. A large puddle began to form on the floor before Joshua turned the flow off. The room was completely quiet and it seemed like everyone was holding their breath.
At first nothing happened. Then tiny bubbles began to form in the puddle. The ink bubbled and shifted for a few seconds before the pool began to pull in on itself. An inky blob was formed and it began wiggle. The blob stretched upwards and thinned as arms and legs began to form and the body leaned forward. The toon's body became more defined as time went on. It hunched over as the ink on its back stretched and three sets of white wings burst forth.
The crew and the clients watched in wonderment as the toon sat up all of a sudden and threw his head back. A ring of luminescent ink formed behind his head. Within seconds, it formed a bright, spiky halo. There was a soft *floosh* sound as snow white hair poofed on top of his head. It was long and fell gracefully around the angel's face. He hunched over on his hands and knees. He was panting as though it took a lot of his energy to come into being.
The crew stood by quietly. The Preacher began to walk up to the toon when Joshua held his hand up, causing the man to stop in his tracks. The Preacher looked annoyed but didn't say a word. Joshua just shook his head. He had done this plenty of times. When they come into existence for the first time, it can be confusing for the toons. You had to approach them the right way or they could get scared and lash out. He always took responsibility for this part so no one would get hurt.
Quietly, Joshua walked up to the tired angel. He knelt down before the toon and uttered a single, soft word: "Hello."
The toon seraphim opened his eyes, all eight of them, and looked up at the man. Confusion and a touch of fear played across his face. More eyes began to form on his wings and he used those to look at the other people in the room. Joshua couldn't imagine what it's like to be able to see all around one's self. From the look on the toon's face, it wasn't pleasant. The old animator cleared his throat to gain the angel's attention. All those eyes focused on him and the toon visibly relaxed. It was very unnerving if Joshua were being honest with himself. Still, the angel was calm. That's all that mattered.
"Can you hear me?" The toon tilted his head to the side. He gave the man a curious look but nodded.
"Good, good. And you can understand me, yes?" the toon gave him a bemused smile but nodded again. Joshua let loose a huge sigh of relief. So far, so good. Just one more question:
"Can you speak?" At this, the toon scrunched up his face in though. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came forth. Instead there was a strange melody that bubbled up from his throat. The toon looked shocked as he slapped a gloved hand over his mouth. Joshua chuckled and put a comforting hand on the toon's slim shoulder. It wasn't unheard of for some toons to be mute or make various whistles or car horn noises instead of full speech. It was the first time Joshua had a toon that made a sound like that. It was like a small orchestra full of flutes and violins playing at the same time.
"It's alright my boy." He gave the toon a warm smile. "By the way, my name is Joshua, and I'm your creator." The toon blinked as he slowly removed his hand from his mouth. His face lit up and he smiled back at him. It warmed the old animator's heart to see the toon happy and healthy.
"Now, you need a name…" Joshua stroked his pencil thin beard as he though of the right name for the toon angel. Even though he wrote Abel on the concept art, the name didn't suit him. After a few seconds, it came to him. "I know! Your name is Seth. Seth the Seraphim." The toon chirped. He seemed to like the name.
Joshua took the toon by his hands and helped him to his feet. The angel was a little wobbly on his feet but managed not to fall. He leaned against the man until he got his balanced. The toon giggled and it sounded like the tweeting of several flutes. Joshua couldn't help but chuckle and it made the toon smile more.
Before the old animator could say or do anything else, the Preacher and Mr. Smith walked up to him. Their sudden appearance seemed to frighten the little toon. He stood behind Joshua with a tight grip on the back of his sweater vest.
"You did it Mr. Eubanks!" The Preacher patted him on the back with a huge grin on his face. "Look at him, he's perfect." He tried to reach out to the toon but Joshua grabbed his hand. The Preacher looked shocked and Smith was ready to step in between the two. Joshua could feel the little toon shaking behind him.
"I'm sorry. He's not ready to go with you just yet." Joshua let go of the man's hand before herding the little toon to the other side of the room. He knew he was pushing his luck with these clients but he didn't want the toon to panic.
Joshua brought the angel over to a full length mirror. He pointed to the image it reflected and watched as the toon ran his hand through his soft hair and down the side of his face. The old animator always wanted a new toon to see what they look like before they start their new lives somewhere else. He loved the look of amazement each toon had when they saw themselves for the first time. There was a child-like quality to it all that had the old man praying that they never loose that.
Raised voices behind him caught his attention. It seems the Preacher didn't like to be kept waiting. He was yelling that they had four days to prepare and present the angel to the Pope and they were wasting time. Joshua frowned. For a supposed man of god, he had very little patience. A slight cough brought his attention back to Seth.
The toon was coughing into his hand as he leaned against the mirror. The cough got more frequent and when he pulled his gloved hand away, it was stained with ink. In fact, ink was running down the corners of his mouth. Joshua grabbed the toon by the shoulders just as his legs gave out. Seth leaned heavily against him and the angel's body began to shudder as his coughs got worse. The halo started to warp and drip ink onto the floor. Joshua became alarmed when eyes began to appear up and down his arms, his neck, and along the length of his wings. Inky tears streaked down his white wings, almost staining them black.
Joshua thought he did enough to bring this innocent life into the world, but he was wrong. The toon was dying right before his eyes. If he didn't do something quick, the angel would melt into a puddle of ink. Seth looked up at him with pleading, fearful eyes and Joshua knew what he had to do. He scooped the toon up into his arms and headed for the infirmary as quickly as he could. Some of his coworkers followed him when they noticed the toon was in distress.
The infirmary wasn't just for humans. It was set up to help toons that were hurt or needed extra care when they emerged from the Machine. Joshua laid the ailing toon on a cot and instructed his crew to hook Seth up to an I.V. that would slowly infuse him with ink. Hopefully that would stabilize him and save his life.
Joshua hated to leave the toon alone but he could already hear the Preacher yelling at his people. "Just rest my boy. You're going to be fine." Seth grimaced as tears of ink stained his cheeks. Joshua told two of his crew members to keep an eye on the toon while he tried to calm down the clients.
The Preacher was livid. He demanded to know why he couldn't take the toon. Joshua was trying to explain that Seth wasn't stable enough to leave the studio. The 'holy' man accused the studio of taking the organization's money and trying to keep the toon for themselves. The old animator was two seconds from telling the man off when a terrible scream pierced the air.
Everyone jumped at the sudden outburst and turned just in time to see the two crew members from the infirmary as they staggered into the room. They had their hands clamped over their ears. Joshua rushed over to them and could see blood trickling down their necks.
"What happened?!" the men looked like they were in great pain. They both collapsed to the floor, their ears were bleeding, and they were shaking. It took a few seconds but one of the men was able to find his voice.
"Oh god! We thought he was resting. Then he started screaming!" He lowered his hands to see them covered in blood. It was then that Joshua noticed both men were sweating profusely. "W-We tried to get him to stop but he wouldn't! The room, it started to get really hot. His ink is boiling! H-His screams… my head felt like it was going to explode!"
"What are these fools babbling on about?" The Preacher and Smith began to march towards the infirmary when Seth started to scream again. It was long, drawn out, and full of pain. The sound rocked everyone to the core and even the 'holy' man had to take a few steps back. The infirmary was on the other side of the studio and they could hear the toon angel clear as day!
Joshua grimaced. The screams of anguish seemed to rattle something deep inside himself. The old animator didn't just hear pain in those screams. He heard anger and confusion as well. This was all his fault.
Joshua stood up and told the clients that they had to leave. The Preacher wanted to argue but Joshua told him he couldn't take the toon if he was falling apart. The man gave the animator a baleful look before leaving, he vowed to return the next day. Joshua couldn't care less what the clients wanted at this point.
After he sent the two injured crewmen to the hospital, he tried to check on Seth. The toon's screams sounded like high pitched violin squeals and flute screeches. Joshua couldn't even make it down the hallway before his ears started to hurt. No one could get close enough if the Seraphim kept going on like that…so they waited.
By the end of the day, Joshua sent his crew home. There was nothing else they could do. They were all tired and shaken, but the old animator would stay. Even if the toon didn't know he was there, Joshua didn't want to leave him alone.
The toon wailed his anguish long into the night and all Joshua could do was sit at his desk with his head in his hands. He couldn't believe this was happening. Mr. Hill warned him but he thought he did enough to bring the toon safely into this world. He was so very wrong.
Joshua glanced at the phone. He needed to call Mr. Hill. He needed help. The only thing that stopped him from picking up the receiver was the thought of Murray screaming bloody murder at them all. He would give it time. Maybe the toon would stop screaming long enough for the old animator to check on him.
Hours went by and the screaming finally stopped. Joshua crept down the dimly lit hallways and made his way to the infirmary as quietly as he could. As he got close to the door, he could hear pained moans and the rustling of feather. The poor toon must have been in agony. Joshua pushed opened to the door and the sight that laid before him nearly stopped his heart.
Seth was sprawled out onto the cot. The I.V. was still feeding ink to his body but he wasn't stable at all. In fact, the toon was almost unrecognizable. His white wings were jagged on the edges and completely black. Gone was his white suit or gloved hands. Ink dripped off his elongated body. His hands were clawed and even his halo turned black. If Seth could stand up, Joshua swore he would be taller than him. His proportions were almost human…even his face was vaguely human. Weeping eyes sprouted all up and down his arms, neck, wings and even his face. The heat in the room was almost unbearable. Seth's ink spilled out onto the wooden floor and it was actually boiling! Joshua could even see flames spurt up from the bubbling ink, leaving scorch marks on the floor and walls. He shook his head in disbelief.
"Oh, my boy…" All of Seth's eyes snapped in his direction and Joshua could practically feel his piercing gaze. The old animator wanted to apologize or say some words of comfort, but he couldn't get it passed the lump that formed in his throat. Seth's face contorted into rage and hurt before he let loose another piercing scream that sent Joshua running out of the room.
The old animator staggered back to the Machine room and collapsed to the floor. It was becoming painfully clear that there was nothing he could do for the dying toon. "How could I let this happened?" he lamented to the constant screeching of the Seraphim.
.
-The Next Day-
.
The crew arrived the next morning to find an exhausted Joshua and the toon screeching like a banshee. The crew wanted to send their boss home but he refused to go. He told them what he saw and that this was all his fault. He thought that hooking Seth up to the I.V drip would save him, but it just made things worse.
His crew looked at each other before telling Joshua that this had never happened before. They didn't know things would go so wrong. Still, the old animator took full responsibility for everything. His coworkers didn't like the idea of him taking all the blame, but no one could change his mind.
The Preacher and his associates showed up a few ours later to check up on the toon angel. By this time, Seth had stopped screaming long enough for the crew and the clients to peak in on him. It left everyone shaken by how much the toon had changed. He moaned in obvious pain while his ink covered the infirmary floor. The heat in the room made it hard for them to stay too long. No one could figure out how he was generating so much heat or how flames would spout from his ink. They could see it boiling on his body too. No wonder he screamed so much. The poor toon was burning from the inside out.
Joshua finally had enough when the Preacher started calling the toon a monster and how the studio screwed up. He tuned the man out as he made his way to his office. He sat down heavily at his desk and ran his hand down his face. He stared at the phone. It was time to make the call he'd been dreading since this whole mess started. He didn't care if Mr. Hill called him every name in the book, lord knows he deserved it. If the man could save Seth's life, then he would put up with any insult the man would surely throw at him.
So with a heavy sigh, Joshua picked up the phone and had the operated connect him to Murray Hill. The man sounded like he was in a good mood, but that would all change when he found out what happened. The string of cursed the man let loose had Joshua holding the receiver away from his ear. After a few minutes, Murray said he'd be there in an hour.
The man was true to his word. He showed up at Joshua's studio within an hour and demanded to be taken to the infirmary. The old animator took him there and wasn't surprised by how angry he got. The only reason he didn't start cursing again was that he didn't want to set the toon off. Joshua watched as Hill shook his head, pushed passed him, and made his way back to the main room.
Murray Hill proceeded to lay into everyone in the room. Everyone, even the clients, were taken aback by the man's anger. A lot of it was directed towards Joshua and his staff because he specifically warned them about making a toon too complicated. When the Preacher tried to put his two cents in and called the poor toon a monster, Joshua thought the 'holy' man was going to end up with a black eye. Hill rounded on him so quickly that the Preacher had to take a step back.
"Don't you DARE call that toon a monster! He didn't ask for this to happen. None of this is his fault!" That last statement caused Joshua to look down in guilt. He knew he took a chance and in the end, he failed. Hill made it clear there was nothing he could do to save the toon angel.
"My machine is technology, it's not a miracle worker!" Hill growled out as he eyed everyone in the room. He took a few deep breaths to reign in his anger before he hurt someone. "Now, someone go in there and put that poor toon out of his misery."
-Present Day-
.
"Everything that happened was my fault. So I…killed Seth." By the time Joshua got to the end of his story, he couldn't look Abel in the eyes.
Abel was too stunned to say anything. He had no idea that the story would be this bad. From his dreams, he knew the other toon was in great pain, but the fact that they let him linger like that for two days, boggled the mind. No wonder Joshua didn't want to tell him.
At the end of the day, what's done is done. No matter how furious he felt right now, it wouldn't change what happened in the past. Abel really wanted to accept these truths but something was still bothering him. A question was still scratching at the back of his mind and he needed to voice it…even though he feared the answer. The toon angel grimaced and cleared his throat to get Joshua's attention. He stared at the man for a few seconds before the words came tumbling out.
"What happened to Seth's body?" Joshua's face crumpled as anguish wracked his body.
"Abel, please-" The toon lunged for the old man. He grabbed him by his collar and pulled him so close that their faces almost touched.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO SETH'S BODY!?" So help him, if he didn't get an answer soon, he was going to shoot the old man. The fear his saw in Joshua's eyes sent a twinge of pain through his chest, but he pushed it down. He needs answers, now! After a few seconds of staring at each other, Joshua looked utterly defeated as he lowered his head. Abel let him go with a huff and waited for the old man to finish the story.
The man took a shaky breath and looked down at the ground.
"I wanted to give him a proper burial. It was the least I could do after everything I put him through." Joshua gripped the handle of his cane a little tighter to keep his hands from shaking. "Mr. Hill disagreed. He said it would just be a waste of good ink." At this point, Joshua was shaking his head. The memory of it all looked physically painful for him. "He instructed us to put his body back into the Machine…"
Joshua knew he should have ended it there, but the words wouldn't stop!
"I offered to give the Preacher and his associates back their money. He refused. Even though it was too late to gift the Pope with an angel, he could see the value in having one to represent the organization…"
Abel's pie cut eyes grew incredibly wide. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt his body shake and he wasn't sure if it was from rage or fear.
"A week later, I designed a new angel…" Joshua looked up to stare into the toon's eyes. "It was you, Abel."
It was as though the ground fell out from under him. He knew, deep down, from all the dreams and memories that wasn't his… Joshua saying it out loud made it all real.
The angel was panting heavily and his fingers twitched. He was tempted to pull out his gun and he needed to get away from here before he did something stupid. He stood up abruptly and began to back away from the bench.
"Abel?" Joshua tried to reach for him.
"Don't touch me!" Abel shouted and Joshua pulled back as though his hand got burned. The toon scowled and bared his teeth at the old animator.
"You- I just don't- Do we mean nothing to you?! Are we just… toys created to amuse you and if we're broken, you just tear us apart and start all over again?!" Abel couldn't hold in his fury anymore. Inky tears slid down his cheeks.
Joshua looked like the toon just punched him in the gut. He loved all of his creations! The Machine gave the toons' form but it's the creators that put their heart and soul into their creations. They give them that spark that gives them life.
"Abel please! It's not like that, I swear!" The toon was backing away. Joshua was loosing him, he could see it in his eyes.
"I knew creators couldn't be trusted." The toon scowled at Joshua. His gloved hands balled into tight fists and they shook slightly. "I'm done with you, old man. Don't come looking for me." Abel turned his back on Joshua and spread his wings. "Come near me again and I won't hesitate to kill you." And with that, he took off.
Joshua was left sitting on the park bench, alone, and ashamed. "I'm sorry, my boy. I've failed you just like I failed him."
.
-Later That Evening-
.
Abel needed a drink. He needed to forget about this awful day. Hell, he wanted to drink until he forgot about this whole month. Going to the bar was out of the question. He wasn't up to getting drunk in a crowd. So he stopped at liquor store and brought a few large bottles of vodka and headed to his loft to wallow in his own misery, alone. He wanted to get so drunk that he wouldn't dream when he finally blacked out. Unfortunately, he didn't get his wish.
Abel stood in the middle of nothing. It was so quiet. There was no screaming. No flashes of fire or melting ink. No pain. Just nothing. For the past few weeks, all he'd seen was another toon's horrific memories. He should be happy, but this empty void unnerved him more then the nightmares.
The toon angel looked around but couldn't see passed the fog that seemed to surround him. He called out, but his own voice echoed back to him. Abel was getting frustrated. What was the point of dragging him into another nightmare if nothing was here.
The toon angel was about to storm off in any direction when he felt a presence. The air around him began to get very warm and it seemed to dispel the fog. His shoulders sagged and he relaxed before calling out.
"I know you're out there. Come on out, Seth." Abel could see the outline of a very tall figure heading in his direction. As the fog cleared, he could make out three pairs of tattered wings. The edges were sharp and dripped ink. In fact the Seraphim's entire body was dripping ink. The stark white of his almost human face and chest clashed with the inky blackness of the rest of his body. Seeing the other toon like this made his heart ache.
Eyes. There were eyes all up and down his arms, his wings, neck, and even his face had at least four sets of eyes hidden under his long white hair. Tears of ink seemed to stream down his body and adds to the pool of ink forming at his feet. All those eyes were focused on him. It sent a shiver up his spine. His stare was soul piercing. The Seraphim stood there with a blank expression on his face. He seemed to be waiting for Abel to say something. After a few seconds of staring, the toon angel finally found his voice.
"I know what happened to you. I finally got the old man to tell me everything." Abel just shook his head. "I am so sorry…"
Seth tilted his head to the side and watched Abel.
Abel's body began to shake with barely concealed rage. "What you've shown me, what you've been through-" The toon angel closed his eyes tightly as though he could block the terrible images from invading his mind. "This is exactly why I don't trust creators. We mean nothing to them!" Abel thought the Seraphim would agree with him. Instead Seth slowly shook his head.
Abel was confused. "What are you talking about?!" He waved his gloved hands at Seth as though to prove his point. "Look at you! He killed you for God's sake!"
A sharp screech caused Abel to stop and stare at the other angel. He actually looked angry and shook his head again. Seth lifted a clawed hand and pointed to something just over Abel's shoulder. The toon angel turned when he felt intense heat behind him and jumped back a few feet as a wall of flames sprung up close to him.
"W-What's goin' on?" Seth hissed softly before he waved his hand and the flames died down. In it's place was a wavering image of the Seraphim in the infirmary. He was laying on the cot, panting heavily, and moaning in intense pain. It broke Abel's heart to see him like that but he wondered why Seth was showing him this. He was about to ask when the infirmary door creaked open.
It was Joshua! This must be the time the old man took the toon's life. Abel turned away from the image. He didn't want to see this. A loud hiss caught his attention and Seth was staring at him. He stabbed his finger in the direction of the memory. This must have been important to the Seraphim. The least Abel could do was watch. With a heavy sigh, he turned around and watched the scene unfold.
Seth was angry. This man, his creator, said he would help him. He said everything would be alright. Instead, he's been laying here in pain, tired, and he just wanted it all to end. The Seraphim watched as the man got closer. He walked gingerly around the hot ink on the floor and jumped when an errant flame spouted up around him.
Joshua was close enough that Seth could see him sweat. The man tried to wipe his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, but it proved useless. Seth snarled softly. The heat his creator felt was nothing compare to how he felt.
His creator stopped an arm's length from him… so close that Seth had the urge to reach out and wrap his claws around his neck. He almost did it, but Joshua uttered three little words that made him stop:
"I'm so sorry." Seth eyes grew wide. Joshua looked miserable. His head hung low and he hadn't looked the angel in the eyes once since he walked in here.
"I thought I could save you, but my efforts made it worse. You've been here suffering because I was too much of a cowered to ask for help." Joshua sighed and looked up at him. The man's eyes were slightly red and his spilled tears were drying in the heat. Seth didn't expect this and was a little surprised.
"I know you can't forgive me, but I needed you to know that I never meant for this to happen." Joshua just stood there and Seth realized that his creator was offering himself to the toon. He was willing to take whatever the toon wanted to dish out because he was took sole responsibility for what happened..
The Seraphim hissed softly before reaching out to Joshua. The man flinched but held his ground as the tips of Seth's claws brushed against his neck. Joshua closed his eyes and waited for the toon to take his pound of flesh. He gasped softly when he felt the large, hot hand pressed against his cheek. He opened his eyes to find Seth staring back at him with a soft smile on his face. Even though the corners of his eyes were pinched with pain, the toon graced him with a gentle smile. The same one he saw when he introduced himself.
Seth watched at Joshua tilted his head into the Seraphim's hand and let a few more tears slip down his cheek. His previous thoughts of hurting the man flew right out the window. In fact, he felt a little ashamed for having those thoughts in the first place.
After a few minutes, Joshua reached up and gently pulled the angel's hand away. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand before clearing his throat.
"I'm going to stop this." Joshua walked over to the I.V. The tubing partially melted into the angel's arm. He couldn't pull it out even if he wanted to. Joshua reached up and turned off the machine that was feeding ink into the toon's body.
Within a few moments Seth felt his entire body relax. His ink went from a boil to a simmer to cooling within minutes. The angel closed his eyes and let his body sink into the cot. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times when he felt himself starting to fade. Seth was scared. He didn't know what was going on and he didn't have the energy to move.
Joshua must have noticed something because he was standing at the toon's side. He took Seth's large hand in his own and held it tight. "It's alright my boy. Just relax." Joshua's voice took on a soothing tone. "You won't be in pain anymore. You will…finally be at peace." The man's voice shook near the end but it was still comforting. The Seraphim whistled softly with his last breath and Joshua smiled sadly as he watched all of his eyes close.
As Seth's consciousness began to fade, so did the scene before them. Abel stared into the nothingness left behind for a few seconds more before turning towards Seth. He ran his gloved hand down his face as he tried to get his thoughts together.
"So, he put you out of your misery?" Seth nodded. Abel frowned at Joshua's choice of words. He guessed it felt like murder to the old man. It didn't matter though. Abel knew he was too angry at the time to hear the man out.
The toon angel sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, at least he was there for you. He did nothing for me." The last statement was said in a bitter whisper. Seth heard it though.
What sounded like someone angrily strumming the strings of a violin got Abel's attention. Seth was scowling at him, again.
"What?! It's true! I suffered for four years in that damned studio." Abel shouted before he crossed his arms over his chest. "He sat back and did nothing!"
Seth narrowed his eyes at Abel and huffed. He swept his clawed hand outwards and another wall of flames sprung up behind Abel causing him to jump back. He was about to yell at the seraphim when a new scene appeared before him.
It was Abel. He was in his tattered room at the studio. He was laying on his side, bleeding, and staring at the door but seeing nothing. His eyes were barely open but he was in too much pain to actually fall unconscious. This often happened after a few torturous sessions with Smith and his goons. This was the last thing the toon angel wanted to see and he turned on Seth.
"Why are you showing me this!? I already know what happened there. I don't need to see this again." Abel all but growled out. Seth shook his head and waved his hand at the scene behind Abel. The toon's hands were balled into fists and shook slightly. He stared at the Seraphim for several moments but gave up. He knew Seth wanted to show him something important and wouldn't budge on the matter. He turned back and grumbled about getting this over with.
It was quiet in the studio. Smith had spent hours 're-educating' him and he was left alone in his room. He had cuts and bruises all over his arms and face. His wings were no longer bound in leather straps but he was in too much pain to lift them. All in all, he looked like a kicked puppy and felt like one too.
The door to Abel's room (or prison as he liked to refer to it) slowly opened and Joshua poked his head in. The man stepped all the way in and closed the door softly behind him.
"Wait a second, I don't remember this…" Abel was confused. He didn't remember the old man coming into his room after Smith was done with him. Then again, he was often too out of it to notice anything around him.
Joshua had what looked like bandages, a rag, and a few bottles of ink in his arms. He sat down on the floor near Abel and placed the items on the floor. What he did next really surprised the toon angel. Joshua reached out and pulled the toon into his arms. Abel fought but was too weak to break the animator's hold. Joshua hugged the toon to his chest, rocked him, and whispered "I'm sorry." over and over again.
The man held him for a few moments before picking up the rag and bottle of ink. He proceeded to pour some ink onto the rag. Joshua rubbed the ink into the cuts on his arms and the bruises on his face. It must have eased the angel's pain because he sighed softly and relaxed in the old man's arms. As Abel began to drift off, Joshua wrapped his arms in bandages. Soon, the scene faded and the fog claimed the space once more.
Abel just stood there staring at his arms. He couldn't believe it. He remembered his wounds being tended to and he knew Smith and his men didn't do it. It never crossed his mind that Joshua did it. If he wasn't so out of it all the time, he might have put two and two together.
"I…I didn't know." Abel turned back to the Seraphim to see a look of understanding on his face. "All this time. He never said anything…" He groaned and covered his face with his hand. He had a hard time reconciling the truth with what he thought he knew. Abel sighed and looked up at Seth as he came a little closer.
"You showed me all of this so I would know the truth?" Seth nodded. Abel tsked and crossed his arms over his chest. "You want me to forgive him, dontcha?" At this, Seth just shrugged and gave him a warm smile.
Abel shook his head and stared down at the floor. "I don't know. I don't think I can forgive him just like that. I went through a lot for four years…" The toon angel's shoulders sagged and his arms fell to his sides. "I-I just can't-"
His body went completely still when he felt a large hand resting on top of his head. Abel blinked and noticed Seth had knelt before him. He ruffed Abel's hair. If it were anyone else, the toon angel would have shoved them away. The Seraphim's touch felt nice. It was like something an older sibling would do. It was a strange feeling but not an unwelcome one.
Abel noticed the fog began to creep in and the area was cooling down. He was starting to wake up and Seth knew it too. Part of his body was already starting to disappear. Abel started to panic.
"Seth, wait!" Said angel tilted his head. "Will-will I ever see you again?"
Seth chuckled and it sounded like several flutes tweeting. He pointed to himself then reached out and pressed his large hand against Abel's chest. Right where the toon's heart would be.
It took Abel a minute but he got it. He couldn't help but smile. "I get it Seth. Thank you."
The fog swept over them both and the last thing Abel saw was Seth's smile.
Abel woke with a start. He was laying face down on his couch. Liquor bottles were sprawled all over the floor around him. Some were half full and a few were completely empty. He blinked and noticed the cushions were stained with black ink. Wiping his hand across his face confirmed his suspicions. He cried in his sleep.
Unlike other dreams he had, he remembered everything. Seth left him with a lot to think about. He slowly sat up and his head swam. Drink all that vodka the night before really was a bad decision on his part.
Abel whimpered softly and curled up with his knees pressed against his chest. He knew what he needed to do. He just wasn't ready yet.
.
-One Week Later-
.
Joshua was a little worried. He hadn't seen Abel in over a week. Their last conversation left the man very shaken. He knew the toon angel needed some time to himself, but that didn't stop the old man from worrying about him. He couldn't track him down in a place as big as Toon Town so all he could do was go to their usual meeting spot and wait.
Each day that passed made Joshua feel worse. What happened to Seth was all his fault. He had a chance to get it right with Abel and he failed. When the toon needed him the most, he did nothing. The angel had every right to hate him. Joshua just wanted to see him one more time to make sure he was alright. Then he would leave the toon alone and not come back to the park.
The old animator wasn't sure how long he let his mind wander but subtle clearing of someone's throat startled him. He looked over to see Abel standing there. The toon looked calmer than the last time he saw him.
Joshua was happy to see that the toon was alright even if he appeared tired. "Abel-" the old man said his name with great caution. That made the toon frown for some reason but Joshua pressed on. "I'm so sorry my boy. I-I know I hurt you. I'm just glad you're okay and-"
"Joshua, stop." The man's ramblings were cut short by the stern request. He watched as the toon scratched the back of his head. He seemed to struggle for something to say, so Joshua patiently waited for the angel to gather his thoughts.
Abel sighed. The toon looked so tired. Joshua wondered if he got any rest since the last time he saw him.
"Look Joshua, it took me awhile, but I finally understand why you did what you did." He held up his hand when Joshua tried to say something. "I don't like it, but I understand." Abel ran his hand down his face. "I can't say I forgive you just yet. Maybe someday, but not today. Too much has happened between us and I need time."
Then old man looked hurt but nodded. "I understand." The toon stuffed his hands back into his pockets and started to walk away. Abel suddenly stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder. "By the way, HE forgave you that day."
Joshua was confused. "Who?"
"Seth."
The old animator sputtered for a response. "What- h-how do you know that?"
At this, Abel smiled sadly. "He told me so." Joshua looked at a loss for words. The toon angel just shook his head at the old man's questioning glare. "We both share the same ink after all. " Abel waved over his shoulder and continued on his way. "See ya around, old man."
Joshua sagged against the park bench. He couldn't believe it. Abel actually talked to Seth… and the seraphim forgave him! It was like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders after all these years. What really surprised him was the fact that Abel was willing to see him again. It looked like Seth gave the old animator another chance to make amends. He stared up at the clear blue sky.
"Thank you, Seth."